


ain’t going down without a fight

by staccato



Series: wwmap ficlets [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, 어느날 공주가 되어버렸다 | Who Made Me A Princess (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Emperor Tom Riddle, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Harry is Athanasia, Nagini is just a snake okay, Prince Harry Potter, Reincarnation, Royalty, Tom Riddle | Voldemort Adopts Harry Potter, Tom Riddle's Diary, Tom is Claude, Who Made Me a Princess Novel Adaptation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2020-12-21 06:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21070733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staccato/pseuds/staccato
Summary: harry potter was killed by his guardian, tom riddle, the cold-blooded emperor of magical britain.  it’s just a silly bedtime story… until one boy wakes up to suddenly find he’s become that unfortunate victim!he needs a plan to survive his doomed fate, and time is running out. will he go with plan A, live as quietly as possible without being noticed by the infamous emperor? plan B, collect enough money to escape the palace? or will he be stuck with plan C, sweet-talking his way into the emperor’s good graces?!aka: the hp/wmmap fusion nobody asked for, but i wanted so i wrote it :)





	1. prologue

> “What will it take for you to love me?”
> 
> A beautiful boy was on his knees, gazing up at his father—the Emperor, a man equally handsome. They looked like characters from a storybook, except his life had never been a fairy tale.
> 
> “Should I become more like Delphi?”
> 
> Fingers twisted in dark robes, even though he knew the man prided himself on his impeccable appearance. But Harry was so, so tired, and he just wanted his father to look at him with anything other than blank eyes. Even annoyance will do.
> 
> “If I do, then will you call my name dearly like you do hers, and watch me with warmth in your eyes?”
> 
> Fat droplets of tears had been gathering in the corners of his eyes; now, they began to fall, trailing down his cheeks and curving around his jaw.
> 
> “Will you hold me in your arms...without pushing me away?”
> 
> “Such a thing won’t happen, even on the day I die.”
> 
> “Why is that?”
> 
> “...”
> 
> “I’m your child too, Father. I was by your side for much longer than Delphi.”
> 
> “You fool.”
> 
> Tom’s spoke softly, but his voice dug into Harry’s ears cruelly.
> 
> “There was never a day I considered you my son.”
> 
> He was heartless to the very end.
> 
> —Chapter 8: Twisted Faith
> 
> “Lovely Princess”

* * *

_Huh?!_

Harry gasped, eyes flying open.

What’s this? Why was he suddenly thinking of that novel? Lovely Princess...the title had been tacky, but the plot had been alright. Though, he supposed he only read it because a customer had left it behind.

_Did I recall it because the protagonist that gets executed had the same name as me?_

What a jinx. And this was supposed to be a new life, too.

To be honest, Harry still wasn’t sure how _that_ had happened. He had fallen asleep one day, and woken up to a man and a woman peering down at him.

“Look, Lily-fire!” the man had exclaimed. “He’s got your eyes! Oh, I’m so glad our child got your beautiful eyes.”

“Too bad he also inherited your ugly nose, Potter,” the woman had said, and though the words were biting, the tone was gentle. She brushed her fingertips against his hair; tucked him closer to her bosom.

And for the first time in his life, Harry felt...loved.

Fifteen months later, that feeling remained.

“Oh, is my little love awake?”

His dad appeared in his field of vision, a grin stretching across his mouth. Large hands reached into his crib, and Harry was lifted up, easy as anything. He settled onto one arm, staring up at his dad. He looked...well, exhausted was to put it lightly. Mussed hair, dark circles, a scruffy beard, rumpled clothes—all were signs of a man under immense stress. Yet unlike Uncle Vernon, James never took his frustration out on his wife or child. On the contrary, it seems as if their presence alone can improve his mood; similarly, when Harry is with him, he never feels anything but safe.

I’ve gone soft, he thought wryly, as he reached up to place his two tiny hands against James’ cheeks. The man lit up immediately.

“Daddy sleep?”

James covered one fist with his hand, shaking his head gently. His smile tightened. “Not right now, bud. Come on, your mom baked some Halloween cookies.”

Harry clapped his two hands together. “ ‘ookies!”

Lily was in the kitchen, taking out a baking tray from the oven. Faint tendrils of steam rose into air, and for some reason, the cookies smelled exactly like Aunt Petunia’s.

(Well, that wasn’t exactly accurate. It was her recipe, passed down her family for generations, but Harry had been the one to make them for the Dursleys since he was...oh, about five?

As one might expect, he has never eaten any. He had always wondered if they were as delicious as they looked.)

"Mommy!”

Lily turned, beaming. She came forward, brushing her lips against James’ gently. Harry glanced away, embarrassed. He had always felt uncomfortable with displays of affection. A touch drew his attention back, as slender fingers brushed away the last of the sleep dust from his eyes. A kiss was dropped onto his head. “Hello, darling. Did you enjoy your nap?”

Harry nodded, then pointed behind her. “ ‘ookies!” he repeated.

“Yes, darling,” Lily agreed. “I made some cookies. Would you like one?”

“No, wait,” James interrupted, before Harry could reply. “These are Halloween cookies, Lil. We have to decorate them!”

Lily rolled her eyes, lips tugging upwards. “If you must, Potter.”

“I must,” James retorted, and shifted the boy in his arms. “What do you say, little love? Want to help your daddy decorate the cookies?”

Harry blinked up at him. “I eat ‘ookies?”

“No, we have to decorate them first, okay? Then we’ll eat them.”

Harry sighed. But he had already gone twenty-some years without tasting these cookies. What's a few minutes more? “Okay, Daddy!”

As Lily set out the containers of icing and sprinkles, James brought him closer to the kitchen counter. He pointed at a cookie with his free hand. “Which color of icing should we put on this one, little love?”

Harry tapped his chin with his forefinger, pretending to be deep in thought, for he knew the act made his parents laugh. “Green!” he finally declared, gesturing imperiously. As he did so, he accidentally knocked over another container. Colorful bits of sprinkles spilled out.

“Oh, dear,” James murmured, catching Harry’s wandering hand. “What a big mess you’ve made, Harry.”

“Oops!” Harry giggled, burying his face into the curve of James’ neck. In his old life, his response to a mistake would have never been so callous. But this is a new life, now, and the Potters and the Dursleys are as different as can be. For one, they had never yelled nor hit him. And two...

With a swish of willow wood, the bits of sprinkle flowed back into the container, which up-righted itself gracefully. In a matter of seconds, it was as if the incident never happened.

“There,” Lily said, putting her wand away. “Please be more careful in the future, okay, darling?”

Harry squealed, delighted. No matter how many times he had seen magic being used, he doesn’t think he would ever tire of it. It was just so...wonderful.

Lovely Princess was also set in a world with magic, too, but there was no way—

Of course, that’s when the front door burst open.

* * *

_“Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him! Go, run! I’ll hold him off!”_

* * *

_“Not Harry! Please, no! Take me! Kill me instead!”_

* * *

_“Avada Kedavra!”_

* * *

Tom watched in shock as the green light rebounded off the babe, flying straight back to him. If it wasn’t for his quick thinking and nimble body, he would have been dead. Instead, the curse dissipated against the wall harmlessly, absorbed into the pale wallpaper. Tom only dared to stand after a few minutes, flicking his gaze between the aftermath of the spell, and the baby that had somehow managed to survive the killing curse.

Is this what the prophecy refers to? Is this the power the Dark Lord knows not? Does this brat…hold the key to immortality?

Tom hesitated, twirling his wand as he pondered. On the one hand, if the seer spoke true, then this boy was destined to kill him. And while Tom doesn’t believe in things like fate and destiny—if he had, he wouldn’t have become emperor—he also doesn’t believe in being careless. It paid to be cautious. After all, he knew all too well just how easily someone in places of power can be toppled. The sensible thing to do is to nip this boy in the bud, before he grows up into a formidable enemy. Sure, the killing curse had been ineffectual, but what about a cutting curse to the jugular? What if Tom summoned his heart?

On the other hand…

He parted the boy’s hair with the tip of his wand, revealing a raw, angry wound, shaped not unlike the lightning bolts casted down from the sky. Not even the horcruxes had protected Voldemort to this extent. Despite the boasts of immortality, he had fallen to the curse like any other mortal. His body had disintegrated, and all that remained had been a wispy black robe. He could only dream of the curse leaving behind just a scar.

Tom snorted, an utterly plebeian move, but the thought of _that_ man being bested by this baby was…

“Amusing.”

* * *

Months after the novel’s initial release, the author of “Lovely Princess” had revealed that Riddle kept Harry because the latter had managed to survive a killing curse in his infancy. The mention barely made up three sentences, but Harry thought it really deserved more than that because, _fuck, it hurt!_ He wanted to wail as his forehead throbbed, and a thin stream of blood started to trickle down his nose. However, being the sole focus of Riddle’s attention forced his mouth shut. He was too scared to even tremble, and could only watch as Riddle stalked over to the crib, red eyes scrutinizing him warily.

In the story, Riddle decided to raise Harry in the Riddle House. Well, raise was a relative term. In truth, he left him to house elves, and never once paid a visit. However, he did cover the boy in monitoring charms, which were set to alert Riddle as soon as Harry displayed strong bouts of magic. As it is, Harry never did, and Riddle’s interest waned. Eventually, he only viewed Harry as a threat, and happily executed him for the attempted assassination of Delphine. Of course, Harry was innocent. Yet even when the result of the investigation was revealed—when the true perpetrator was caught—Riddle only took a sip of his tea. No fleeting feelings of regret nor remorse had been spared for the poor boy.

For Harry, it was a different story.

Being only fifteen months old at the time of the attack, he quickly lost his memories of the Potters. Instead, his childhood consisted of being tended to by house elves, who, although attentive, didn’t always understand the needs of human children. They cooked delicious meals, and cleaned until the floors sparkled, but they didn’t read Harry bedtime stories, nor did they comfort him in times of sadness. In short, he never experienced much attention or love.

That is, until his ninth birthday, when he met Tom in the garden of the Slytherin Mansion. Of course, Riddle ignored him, uninterested. But for Harry, who had never received any affection, this was quite a fateful encounter. In subsequent years, he tried, with all his might, to be loved by his father, growing up into a prince with both skill and grace. But on his fourteenth birthday...

Well, let’s just say that _that_ was a future Harry wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about.

_Go away, go away, go away,_ he chanted in his head, praying that Riddle would just leave him be. Sirius or Remus would be here soon, and a childhood spent with them would be heaven compared to the one with Riddle.

Unfortunately, he has yet to master the art of telepathy. Oblivious to Harry’s thoughts, Riddle simply smirked as he made his decision. He flicked his wand, and blankets shifted to wrap around Harry, almost to a suffocating degree. With another flick, he began to levitate in the air.

At the third flick, the two of them disapparated, leaving behind two cooling bodies, an unhinged door, and a spilled tray of cookies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [wmmap](https://bato.to/series/72873)
> 
> my [tumblr](https://stac-cato.tumblr.com/)
> 
> thanks for reading! kudos and comments are always welcome :)


	2. a(n un)fortunate discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry stumbles upon a house.

Four years after his arrival to the Riddle House, Harry woke to the sound of curtains sliding open. Sunlight streamed through the large bay windows, causing Harry to burrow his head deeper into his blankets.

“Ngh,” he whined. “Five more minutes, please.”

A pair of leathery hands landed on his shoulders, shaking him gently.  “Flore is sorry, but it’s time to wake up now,” a voice called. 

Harry groaned, but sat up, rubbing at his eyes. Flore stood beside him, next to the head of his bed. Seeing that he was awake, she retracted her hands.

“Good morning, Harry,” she greeted, mouth stretching in a warm smile. Large ears, bulbous eyes, short stature—all these marked her as a common house elf, but the leather collar around her neck indicated her unique status of belong to the Emperor. 

“Good morning, Flore,” Harry returned politely. 

“Breakfast will be served in the dining room in half an hour. Would you like help in getting ready, Harry?”

Harry shook his head. “No, it’s alright. Thank you, Flore.”

With a final nod, she disappeared.

Harry stretched his arms above his head, mouth widening into a yawn. He crawled out of bed and pitter- patterd to the open windows, looking down at the grounds beneath. Green grass sparkled with morning dew, and the scent of roses floated into the room.

To be honest, life at the Riddle House wasn’t as terrible as Harry had feared. The novel had described it as if it was purgatory, but most stories do have a tendency to exaggerate, don’t they? Sure, it was lonely at times, but he was never abused, like he had been at  Dursleys . Undoubtedly, it would have been better to be raised by his godfather, but the house elves aren’t too shabby, either. Harry would almost enjoy his life here, if it wasn’t for the ticking time bomb that was Tom. Which is why...

He dropped to the floor and reached under his bed, pulling out bags filled with fineries. The Riddle House, if nothing else, was certainly extravagantly furnished. The marble statues were a little too big for Harry to steal away, but he had recently found some gold jewelries. They would sell for a fortune, enough to finance his life when he leaves this place.

Of course, that would be thirteen years from now, but it was always good to be prepared.

He secured the bags around the thighs, relieved that their obvious shape was covered by the robes he wore. Wizard fashion was  _ weird _ , but he’ll take any advantage he can get.

As always, breakfast was delicious, and he made sure to tell  Ces so. He used to be a troublesome child, spilling water onto the floor just to create more work for the elves. But considering they have magic, and he’s a squib, it was better to get them on his side. One day, they might act as a line of defense between Tom and him. 

“Do you have any plans for today, Harry?” Han asked, as he cleared the tables.

“I was thinking of going for a walk,” Harry answered brightly. “It’s such a nice day outside!”

He didn’t bother to ask permission, because the house elves generally don’t care about what he did. When Tom brought him here, his only instructions was that the babe must be kept alive. As such, Harry had a lot more freedom than the usual child, which suited him just fine. After all, he had been an adult when he first died.

"That sounds like fun, Harry,” Han said. “Will you return home for lunch, or would you like to bring it with you?”

“I’ll come back!”  The pouches were already heavy enough.

It was indeed a beautiful day, which made the lack of people in the town even more obvious. The Riddle House was built on top of the hill, overlooking Little  Hangleton . The town, used to be quite populated, judging by the numbers of houses and shops. Yet Harry has never seen head or tail anyone. It’s as if all of them just up and left one day. He wondered what happened.

Slowly, he picked his way through the town, toeing at the bits of moss and grass that were sprouting up between the cracks in the pavement. A rabbit appeared onto the path in front of him. It stood up on its hind legs, nose twitching, before hopping away.

An hour later, he arrived at the graveyard. In front of the plaque for the Riddles, the dirt was freshly turned, signs that someone had tampered with the grave. Harry smiled guiltily, berating himself for leaving behind such an obvious piece of evidence. 

Well, it’s not like anyone comes here, anyway.

He crouched down, digging into the ground with his bare hands. Five other pouches had already been buried, and Harry happily added his new treasures. 

_ Are these enough? Should I steal some more? But I don’t want to house elves to get suspicious. What if they think it’s someone breaking into the House, and report the incident to Tom? _

Ugh, no. He must avoid catching Tom’s attention at all cost. He’ll be happy if he could live his life quietly, running away as soon he reached his eighteenth birthday. And Tom wouldn’t pursue if he forgot about him, right? There’s no reason for him to bother with a squib, when he has the beautiful and  _ magical _ Delphi.

_ Boom! _

Harry lifted his head, looking above him in shock. Somehow, storm clouds had gathered without his notice, darkening the sky. The once radiant sun was nowhere to be seen, and water was already spilling from the sky, falling faster by the second. 

Harry hastily covered the newly dug hole, and stood up, glancing around wildly. Through his blurry vision, he made out of a house on top of a hill, and sprinted towards it as fast as he can, ignoring the burn in his legs. He’s already drenched to the bone, and his shoes squished with every step. His teeth are chattering with the cold. He can’t wait to return home and jump into a steaming hot bath.

Only, when he closed the large heavy door behind him, he realized he was not in the right house.

“H-hello?” he called out, and his voice echoed down the hallway. “Is there anyone home?”

He waited for a moment, but no reply came. Neither did a house elf appear, forcing him to leave. Harry peered out of window—it was still pouring, and as rude as harry knows it is, he would rather trespass than brave the rain again.

_ It doesn’t seem like anyone is here. Maybe the owner, like the townspeople, also left? Judging by the size of the house, they must have been rich. If I'm here anyway, why not do a little exploring? I might even find more goodies to pilfer. _

With that thought in mind, Harry trekked down the hallway, careless of the water trail he left behind. To his disappointment, the house was devoid of anything valuable. No portraits were hung on the walls, nor did marble busts line the halls. Moroccan carpets did not cushion the floors, and there was no crown  molding to be found, much less any made of gold.

“Ahh, what is this?” He whined, voice echoing in the empty space. “How come the Riddle House is better furnished than this? Did the previous owner take everything when they left?”

For him to decorate a  _ prison _ that lavishly, Tom must be  really rich .

Well, he was the Emperor, it would make sense for—

_ Woah. _

Harry stood still in the doorway, the doorknob loose in his grip. After seven empty rooms, his expectations had been low. And yet...

“Wow,” he repeated aloud.

He wasn’t disappointed anymore, that’s for sure.

Truth to be told, Harry held an inordinate amount of fondness for libraries. When he was young, they were the only place Dudley wouldn’t chase him into when Harry Hunting. To avoid suspicions, he would pull random books off the shelf to read, flipping through the pages without paying attention to the words. But slowly, he began to be drawn to the plot, and lost himself to the fantasy they created. During those times, he wasn’t Harry the orphan, but rather a protagonist on a grand adventure. Stories like the  _ Lovely Princess, _ in which an underdog got a happy ending, were his favorites. They gave him hope that one day, he would be able to escape the grasp of the Dursleys.

Even after he was reincarnated, that love remained. The Riddle House, fortunately, held a large library in which Harry spent most of his time. But this...

This library was easily twice, no, thrice the size of the Riddle Library. Floor to ceiling shelves covered every available inch, so high that Harry’s neck hurt from looking to the top. There was a tiny silver of space for a person to walk through, and he did so, trailing his fingers along the spines of the books. Some were thin as his wrist, others as thick as the width of his body.

Suddenly, he paused, fingers frozen as he reread the title.

_ The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1.  _

This...this was a magical book.

_ This was a magical book! _

Harry pulled the book from its place in the shelf, flipping open the cover. 

> “Before you learn to cast any charms, it is important to know what a charm is. Charms, broadly defined, are spells that add certain properties to an object. The Levitation Charm (Chapter 7), for example, will levitate objects. They are not to be confused with transfiguring spells, which change objects into something utterly different...”
> 
> —Chapter 1: Fundamentals
> 
> “Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1”

Harry’s eyes greedily scanned through the words, flipping the page as soon as he reached the end. That was only the first paragraph, and yet Harry was already hooked. Magic was just beyond fascinating, even for a squib like him. There was so  much to learn, and he just happened to have stumbled upon the means to do so. How lucky was he, to find this treasure cove?

_ And what fools the previous must have been, to leave all this behind. _

So absorbed was he, that he did not notice another’s presence until a shadow fell over his figure. A harsh voice rang out.

“What is this filthy bug doing here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> flore, han, and ces are lily, hannah, and ces, respectively.
> 
> thanks for reading! kudos & comments are greatly appreciated.
> 
> my [tumblr!!](https://stac-cato.tumblr.com/)


	3. a conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> riddle is still riddle, no matter which universe he is in

Shocked, Harry’s grip loosened, the book dropping unto the floor with a loud  _ thump. _ Yet he could not care less, for when he spun around, standing in front of him was...he was...

A man, tall and thin, with skin so pale Harry could trace the veins running throughout his body. Sharp cheekbones, thin lips, a straight nose; brown tresses were cut short, one thick curl ending just above his eyes—his gleaming, crimson eyes, which bore into Harry’s very soul.

He can be no one other than the Emperor, His Majesty Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Harry jerked his head away, terrified to meet his gaze, for he was aware that Riddle was capable of legilimency: the art of mind reading. But he knew better to take his eyes off of such a dangerous man, so returned his head to its original position, this time focusing on, uh, his chest. Surely that was a safe place to rest his eyes on?

Most importantly,  _ what the hell was he doing here?  _ In the book, Harry and Riddle had only met when the former was nine years old, four years from now! This was way too early in the timeline. And this wasn’t the Emperor’s  Garden, either !

“Those eyes,” Riddle suddenly murmured, drawing Harry out of his frenzied thoughts. “I’ve seen them before.”

Harry felt his heart beginning to race in his chest, beating hard enough to leave an imprint on his lungs.

“Yes,” he continued, seemingly oblivious to the trembling of Harry’s hands. “Was it that mudblood who dared to stand in my way?”

_ Badum. _

“I killed her, of course, but I think I remember what she named you,” a slender hand reached out, and tilted his chin up, mockingly gentle. “I believe it was...Harry.”

_ Badum badum. _

“Back then, you were a tiny thing that couldn’t even walk.”

_ Badum badum badum. _

He crouched, which did nothing to ease Harry’s nerves. Rather, having Riddle’s face—his eyes—so close only served to increase his anxiety. But he could do nothing but swallow nervously, pressing himself further into the shelf behind him.

“You’ve grown a lot.”

_ Badumbadumbadumbadumbadumbadum. _

_ G-grown a lot?  _ Harry repeated to himself, hysterically.  _ Does that mean he’ll kill me now, since I'm old enough? What is it with this guy? He was written to ignore Harry! What is it with this attention—?  _

“Now. What are you doing in my manor?”

Harry’s frantic thoughts came to an abrupt halt.

_ W-what? _

This place, which appeared more dilapidated than the Riddle House, is the home of the Emperor of Magical Britain?

Harry’s jaw fell, and he gaped, eyes as round as saucers.

No, no way.

He must have been silent for too long, for Riddle let out a displeased sigh. “How boring. I didn’t know you couldn’t speak.”

Does that mean Riddle will kill him for not being entertaining?

Ack, what a horrible man.

“I-I can talk,” he whispered, voice weak with fear. 

Riddle raised an eyebrow—perfectly shaped, of course, the bastard. “Finally, I get to hear you voice. Why did you stay silent until now?”

Harry wanted to scream,  _ because you’re terrifying!  _ However, he kept his mouth firmly shut. He wasn’t planning on dying early in this life too.

“Well, you must be shy,” Riddle decided. “Still, when I ask a question, I expect it to be answered. Promptly.” He didn’t wait for a response. “Now,  _ what are you doing in my manor _ ?”

Harry wet his lips. “I got—I got lost.”

The edge of his mouth turned downward. “Lost? You were out of the house, alone?”

Harry nodded, slowly. He was too terrified to lie, but he was wary of Riddle’s reaction to the knowledge that Harry’s movement were not as constricted as he believed.

It turned out he was right to be cautious. 

“To be so careless with their charge...my, my, my, it seems like those pests are just begging to be killed.”

_ What? _

“I assigned them to you because I had no need of them, useless as they were. But I didn’t think they would be this incompetent. Seems like I’ve too lax.” Riddle smirked, as if he had a brilliant idea. “Yes, their severed heads would serve as a fine reminder of what happens to  _ things _ that disappoint me.”

Harry...could do nothing. The shaking of his limbs worsened, knees locked up as if he was held in place by magic. There was a loud ringing in his ears, and he could barely breathe.

Cool fingers brushed against his cheeks, and he flinched, violently. 

“Are you alright? You’re looking a bit pale,” Riddle asked, genuinely curious.

Harry opened his mouth to answer— _ "when I ask a question, I expect to be answered. Promptly" _ — but all that came out was a croaky gasp.

“Are you shocked by my actions?” Riddle continued. “Are you not aware of who I am?”

Yes, Harry was very, very aware. That was the problem.

He was ready to fall to his knees and kiss Riddle’s feet, to proclaim him as “His supreme and noble Majesty, the Emperor of Magical Britain,” but—

“F-father?”

_ Why was that the word that left his mouth? Ahh, now he’s gone and done it. What kind of an idiot was he? It would have been faster to just ask Riddle to behead—! _

Except, Riddles didn’t look angry; he simply tilted his head, bemused.

“Hmm?”

_ Huh? Didn't he just dig his own grav—? _

_ Oh. _

Now that he thought about it, Riddle liked Delphi, right? And she, in turn, had always been portrayed as bold and insolent.

In that case...

Harry took a deep breath. Smiled as brightly as he could.

“Papa!”

* * *

Long story short, Harry survived.

That night, after returning to the right house, Harry had sat down on his bed and looked at the plans he had made two years prior. The paper was worn from his anxious folding, and the writing had almost completely disappeared. Still, Harry now studied it as if it was his only lifeline.

_ Plan A: avoid getting noticed by  _ _ Riddle, and _ _ live in the House until he died. _

He crossed this out. Obviously, this was no longer a viable option. Well, he had probably been too naïve. He thought everything would have be fine as long as he was careful. Who could have known that the Riddle House and the Gaunt Manor would be so close?

_ Plan B: save enough money to escape the House before turning 18. _

Fortunately, this was still in the realm of possibilities. Although he ended up meeting Riddle four years earlier than expected, the man doesn’t seem to want to kill Harry (yet). And fortunately, he didn’t discover the goodies Harry have been storing, so he could still use them to finance his life for when he runs away.

But that will be in the future. For now...

Carefully, he added another line of writing.

_ Plan C: continue playing cute to steal Riddle’s heart. _

…

Well, he has seen how effective this strategy can be. That was how Delphi gained Riddle’s favor in the book, after all. And for now, it seemed to also work for Harry—Riddle did let him go after he called him Papa, even though the man knew it wasn’t true. But...that’s what the original Harry thought, wasn’t it? Riddle may have just assumed that that was what the elves had been teaching him. Still—how shameless! He was embarrassed just thinking about it. 

But, truth to be told...Harry has done worse to survive. And if all he had to do to avoid death this time around was to act cute and childish?

Yeah. He’ll do it.

Satisfied with his plan, Harry turned off the lights and went to sleep.

As always, he was woken up by the sound of curtains sliding open. Sunlight streamed through the windows, causing him to burrow deeper into his blankets.

“Ngh,” he whined. “Five more minutes.”

A snap, and then the blankets were ripped off of his body.

Harry’s eyes shot open, and he jolted upright, only to find an unfamiliar elf standing at the feet of his bed. His blankets were floating in the space above him, no doubt because of the elf’s magic. 

“It’s time to get up, Young Master,” he intoned.

“Who are you?” Harry shot back.

The elf bowed, hands clasped in front of him. “This one is called Fel.”

“And why are you the one waking me up? Where is Flore?” 

His face was carefully blank. “Fel does not know who Young Master is referring to.” and then, before Harry could continue his line of questions— “breakfast will be ready in half an hour. Please refresh yourself before then, Young Master.”

He disappeared, taking the blankets with him.

For a moment, Harry could only stare. Then, Riddle’s words from yesterday echoed in his head.

_ “It seems like those pests are just begging to be killed.” _

No. No, no. No, no nononono, he couldn’t have really killed them, could he? That was something he just said, not a—an actual threat!

Swallowing back his dread, Harry called out in his sweetest voice: “Flore? Can you come help me get ready, please?”

He waited, but there was no response.

“Flore?” he tried again, more desperately. “Flore, are you there? I need your help!”

Nothing.

“Flore!” he screamed. “Flore! Ces! Han!”

> “Your Majesty, please, we beg of you!”
> 
> Red eyes narrowed in anger. “You dare to request something of me?”
> 
> Three heads slammed against the floor in unison. “Please, Your Majesty! His Highness is a kind boy, he would never do such a thing! Please investigate this matter further!”
> 
> “Enough!” Riddle roared, and the room darkened as his powers extinguished the lights. “That  _ trash  _ hurt my daughter, so he will be killed for it! As for you fools who dare to defy my orders...
> 
> “Take off their heads!”
> 
> —Chapter 9: Twisted Fate
> 
> “Lovely Princess”

Harry ran to the bathroom, and threw up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fel is felix, ofc. i'm very creative when it comes to names 🙃
> 
> please let me know what you guys think! kudos and comments are always appreciated. 
> 
> come talk to me on [my tumblr!](https://stac-cato.tumblr.com/)


	4. breakfast & boat ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry has breakfast. then he goes on a boat ride. one of them doesn't go well.

When he arrived in the dining room, he was met with even more house elves. Dozens have lined up on either side of the doorway, bowing so low that the tips of their ears were brushing against the floor. “Good morning, Young Master.”

It was an overwhelming sight for someone who grew up with only three house elves.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but what came out was a harsh cough; his throat was wrecked from the stomach acid. He swallowed, and tried again. “Good morning, everyone.”

None of the elves twitched.

“Uh,” he added, “please, resume your previous duties.”

They straightened, but all still kept their gazes on the floor. Most of them disappeared, presumably to do work in some other parts of the House. A decent number, however, remained. One came forward and led him to his seat. Another pulled his chair out for him, then pushed it back in when he sat down. A third unfolded the napkin and spread it across his lap.

Alright, this was getting ridiculous. 

Harry was just about to dismiss them, when a different elf appeared in the room with his food. She placed the plate in front of him, and lifted the cloche to reveal—

Beans on toast, strips of bacon, a mountain of scrambled eggs and hashed potatoes; bowls of porridge, colorful fruits, various flavors of yogurt; mugs of orange juice, apple juice, pumpkin juice, milk, and tea.

Harry blinked.

“Where are the pancakes?” 

The elf bowed. “Apologies, Young Master, but pancakes were not on the list of allowed foods.”

Harry’s head snapped up, mouth agape. “There’s a list?”

They nodded.

“Who—”  _ gave you that list?  _ He almost asked, but the answer came to him before he finished. Riddle, of course. Who else could it have been?

But why was he suddenly interested in Harry’s dietary habits? Should he think of it as Riddle caring for him? But he was sure Riddle never tried to dictate what Delphine could or could not eat. Oh Merlin, what if he was trying to fatten him up, like a pig before a slaughter?

Harry shook those thoughts away. If Riddle wanted to kill him, he would have done it yesterday. Still, it might be a good idea to test just how specific Riddle had been.

“But I always have pancakes for breakfast,” he whined, and instantly regretted it. He sounded like a  _ child. _

“Young Master is a growing boy,” one of the other elves said. “Young Master need to eat things more nutritious than pancakes.”

“This is too much,” he argued.

“Do not worry, Young Master. Dottie will discard the leftovers.”

That did not make Harry feel any better. Rather, it made him feel quite like Dudley.

Well, if the shoes fits...

“I don’t want to eat any of this!” he complained, pushing the platter away from him. “I just want pancakes!”

Immediately, all of the elves dropped to their knees, heads slamming against the polished floor. “We sincerely apologize for our inability to provide pancakes, Young Master. Please punish us as you see fit!”

_ Ah, _ Harry thought as he looked at the elves prostrating themselves before him.  _ They’re just like me. _

Riddle must have learned from his previous negligence, and given these elves a set of very specific instructions to follow. As such, they’re very strict with his behavior. At the same time, they must be terrified of displeasing him and, subsequently, Riddle. After all, they were ignorant of the nature of the relationship between him and Riddle. All they knew is that three elves got executed for being lax in their care of him. Thus, Harry must be important to Riddle.

Like Harry, they walked a thin line.

Faced with this revelation, Harry could do nothing but let out a tired sigh. He waved a hand. “Get up, get up. I was in a bad mood this morning. Let’s just all forget about this, alright?”

“Yes! Thank you very much for your generosity, Young Master.”

_ Still,  _ he mused as he bit into a grape,  _ what was up with all this extra attention? _

* * *

A few days later, Harry was  <strike> summoned </strike> invited to take a boat ride with Riddle.

He went, of course, escorted by five elves. Ridiculous, really. It’s not like he was going to be attacked—Harry had never seen another human in this town, magical or otherwise—and he knew better than to run. There was no place in the entire galaxy that could protect him from Riddle’s wrath. 

When he arrived, he saw a snake curled up in front of Riddle’s door. Its head rose as he neared, nostrils flaring to smell his scent. Its eyes bled red, a complement to its shimmering green scales.

_ Ah, _ Harry realized with a start,  _ this must be  _ _ Nagini _ _ .  _

Despite Delphine’s ability, there were few mentions of  Nagini in the book. Her origins were mostly unknown; the previous Emperor had simply appeared at court one day, the humongous snake draped across his lap and shoulders. Her sharp fangs, dripping with venom, had unnerved more than a few attendants.

Mostly though, he remembered that  Nagini had been the last hurdle to Riddle’s complete acceptance of Delphine. Considering she was parselmouth, she overcame this challenge easily

Harry, meanwhile, had no such skill. But he knew she could understand English, and he was used to pleasing powerful figures, anyways. So, when she began to uncoil, Harry immediately bowed at the waist.

“Greetings,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

There was pause, and then a hiss. A thin tongue flickered, appearing and  disappearing from view as quick as a whip. Harry kept his eyes low. Another hiss.

“Ah, I apologize, but I do not understand your language. Please forgive  my incompetency.”

Nagini slapped the end of her tail against the ground, annoyed. She let out a third hiss, and then started to slither away. A few moments later, she paused, and turned to glare at Harry. She jerked her a head in a universal signal of  _ come on! _

Harry straightened up, relieved. The elves left as he followed after  Nagini , who led him around the side of the Manor and into a garden. Riddle sat at a small table, drinking a cup of tea. He glanced up as they approached, and assessed Harry from head to toe.

“I think you got a little chubbier since I last saw you” was the final verdict.

_ Aren’t you the one who’s been trying to fatten me up? _

Instead of saying what he wished, Harry just giggled. “You look handsome too, Papa!”

Riddle hummed, cocking his head to the side. “It’s weird to hear that from you.”

Ah.

Well.

Hm.

_ I suppose it would be different to receive such a compliment from a boy rather than a girl. _

But Riddle didn’t pursue that line of thought any further. Rather, he gazed down on Nagini, whose head was now resting on his lap. She hissed at him.

He hissed back.

She hissed again.

Riddle frowned. He looked up.

“ Nagini says you bowed to her.”

It wasn’t a question, but Harry thought it would probably be wise of him to answer. “She’s so pretty, like a Queen! And Flore always told me I should bow to a Queen!” He lied brightly, clapping his hands and tilting his head in excitement.

“Is that so?”

“Um-hum!”

“I see,” Riddle said drily, suspicion coloring his tone. But he didn’t make a move to kill Harry. Instead, he finished the last of his tea, and stood up.  Nagini was dislodged, and she hissed in complaint. Riddle simply patted her head like one would a child, replying in kind. She went away, and Harry, for an absurd moment, thought she was sulky.

Then logic reared its head, and Harry forced himself to focus on the bigger threat. Riddle was already walking away from him, robes trailing behind him gracefully. “Follow me,” he ordered, without even turning around. 

Harry could do nothing but obey.

They stopped at the edge of a lake, where a lavish boat was resting under the shades of a dozen willow trees. Harry remained still as Riddle picked him up and set him on his seat, too scared to even breathe. Riddle’s hands were large enough to cover his entire waist—he could easily break him in half.

Fortunately, he didn’t, and the boat ride began without incident. Harry tilted his head up, enjoying the caress of sunlight over his face; the touch was warm. A gentle breeze ruffled his hair, preventing him from overheating. It would a nice experience, if it wasn’t for the sunbathing puma sitting across from him.

“What are you thinking about?”

Speaking of the devil!

To be honest, Harry had been wondering how the boat was moving. But that seemed like a stupid question, so he cast his mind for something else— “your hair is so pretty, Papa!”

Success! He knew those late nights of bullshitting essays would come in handy one day.

Riddle reached up to touch his curls. “Really?”

Harry nodded vigorously, forcing himself to smile wider. His eyes disappeared into crescents. “Yes! It reminds me of chocolate, and I love chocolate!”

And it was true. Harry really, really loved chocolates. Perhaps it was because he had been so deprived of it in his previous life. While Dudley wouldn’t go a day without at least eating five chocolate bars, Harry would be lucky enough to have a little square of it once a month. He was barely getting by on packets of instant noodles. Those sweets were luxuries too expensive for Harry to even consider purchasing.

There was a pause after his answer. Then Riddle smirked. “Chocolate is unhealthy for you. You shouldn’t eat too much of it.”

Ack. He’s not going tell the elves to ban chocolate, is he?

To distract himself from that horrible thought, Harry looked away from Riddle and out to the lake. Scattered with hundreds of blooming lotus flowers and leaves, the lake was truly a breathtaking sight.

Wait.

Harry frowned, and took a closer look at the flowers. He gasped as realization set in. The flowers themselves weren’t blue. Rather, the petals were transparent, thus transmitting the blues of the water.

It was amazing.

_ He wanted one. _

Mind made up, Harry stretched out his arm, reaching for the nearest flower. But it was a little bit out of his reach, so he leaned over the edge of the boat, then a little more, then a bit more, and then—

_ Splash! _

Harry fell into the lake.

Immediately, he began to struggle, wriggling around desperately until he broke through the surface of the lake. He extended his arms upward, hoping to get a grip on the boat, expecting that Riddle would lend a hand.

He didn’t.

Rather, Riddle sat still, chin still resting in the palm of his hand. He observed Harry with those cool, bored eyes of his. 

_ He won’t save me. _

_ That man. _

_ He won’t save me. _

Tangles wrapped around his ankles. They pulled him down. 

Harry drowned.

* * *

The next day, a man came to the House to teach him how to swim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today i learned that um-hum is, according to merriam-webster, a real word.
> 
> please let me know what you thought about this chapter! kudos and comments are greatly appreciated.
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr!](https://stac-cato.tumblr.com/)


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